Dean Winchester had been hunting things that go bump in the night for nearly his entire life. And, in all that time, he'd never met a vampire he really liked. They were cold, heartless creatures and he enjoyed killing them. Enjoyed ridding the world of such terrible beasts. But things in Dean's life had gotten far more complicated than they'd once been and it had been a while since he'd hunted anything as minor as vampires.
Sam was trying his heart out to find a cure for the Mark, but Dean had long since accepted his fate. Now, he just wanted to live whatever life he had left, not thinking about the end or wasting time looking for a cure that wasn't there to find.
It was while Sam was out that Dean decided he couldn't take being locked up in the bunker any longer. He hopped in the Impala and started for a bar, somewhere as far away from the bunker as he dared. When he reached a place far enough away, he heaved a sigh and glanced down at the red mark on his arm, the one that he was trying so hard to fight for control of himself. Shaking his head and the thought away, he got out and went inside.
After knocking back a couple shots, his phone rang. Sammy. Dean stared at the screen of his phone, Sam's name, for a long moment, before tapping the ignore button and placing his phone back in his jacket pocket. Sam probably wanted to talk about the Mark and the possible solutions he'd come across. But Dean didn't think there were any solutions, at least not any without dire consequences, and he just wanted his mind off the Mark for a while.
"That your girlfriend or something?" someone said. Dean turned and saw a girl taking a seat on the barstool beside him. She had bronze skin, dark hair and brown eyes. She was pretty, far too pretty to be in a dump like the bar they were in.
Dean realized she was waiting for an answer. Clearing his throat, he said, "Little brother."
"Ahh, I have one of those. Annoying, aren't they?" she said, though she'd admit that she missed her little brother.
Dean shrugged. "He's just persistent is all."
The girl ordered them two more shots. "I'm Elena," she said, passing one to Dean.
"Dean," he replied, knocking back the shot. "So what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" Cliche, yeah, but Dean didn't care. He was actually really curious.
Elean looked around her at the worn-down pub―the dirty and old pool tables, the faded booths, the stained bar. Ever since she and Damon had decided to end things, she'd been on the verge of losing it. Sure, in front of her friends, she held it together, but she'd loved Damon. Now, it had been several months and she'd decided she needed something of a vacation. To get away from Mystic Falls and everyone there. Oddly enough, she'd ended up at some run-down bar in Kansas, some 1,200 miles away.
But even though Elena had taken to escaping the small town from which all her pain seemed to stem, she had to admit that she was proud of herself. She'd kept her emotions on during all of it, endured it all. And now, she was ready to move on and get over it, get over him.
"Just looking for some fun," she finally answered, this time ordering the whole bottle rather than a round of shots.
Dean woke up, the sun shining too bright into his eyes, the sheets tangled around him and the sleeping girl next to him. It had been clear the night before that this girl was a little broken, but Dean was quite broken himself. Just ask Sam, who was constantly trying to fix him. It wasn't the even the Mark that signified how damaged he was; Dean was ruined emotionally.
The brunette―Elena, he remembered―moved beside him, a hand to her forehead. Dean started pulling on his pants, then his shirt, stopping when he heard crying. Dean Winchester had never been one who was good with handling emotions―his own or otherwise―but he pursed his lips and walked around the bed anyway, kneeling in front of Elena and pulling her hands from her face.
"What's wrong?" Dean asked her.
Elena sat up on one elbow, covering herself with the sheet. "It's nothing," she said, trying to dismiss it. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...We shouldn't have..."
Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah, right, of course. Uhmm...Okay, so I'll just go."
Elena took a deep breath, willing herself to just let him go. She didn't want to go back home, though. And even though she'd been drunk most of the night before, she liked Dean's company. But as she opened her mouth to ask him to stay, he said, "Do you wanna get breakfast or something?" He seemed a little shy, which Elena suspected was out of character for him.
With a relieved sigh, Elena agreed.
The diner was simple, something Dean and even Elena preferred. The town was small and only a few people occupied the small restaurant at this hour. Though it was almost ten in the morning, there were only about three people: an old man reading a newspaper, and two girls who were laughing and drinking smoothies at the bar. Elena and Dean took a booth in the corner by the window.
"So, are you from around here?" Dean asked Elena as they waited for their food, trying to make small talk. What did you say to the girl you'd had a one night stand with and then asked to breakfast because she'd woken up crying? Clearly, there was more to her story than what she'd told him―that she was trying to get over a breakup―but he'd been a little too wasted the night before to ask.
Elena smiled. "No," she replied. "I'm from a small town in Virginia."
"Which part of Virginia?" Dean inquired, once again letting his eyes wander down to the Mark.
That caught his attention. Dean had heard of the small town before, amongst other hunters. Rumor was that it was filled with the supernatural, but he'd never taken to sniffing around there himself. He was always a little too busy to make it up there. But if Elena was from Mystic Falls, did that mean she was something other than human? And if she was, would Dean be obligated to hate her? She hadn't given him reason to. Yet.
"What's that on your arm?" Elena asked before Dean could inquire more about her. "You keep looking at it. You were like that last night, too."
"What? It's nothing."
Elena cocked a brow. "Well, last night it didn't seem like nothing. Not when you got angry at that guy for spilling his drink on me."
Dean didn't remember much from the night before. "What do you mean?" he asked, dreading the answer.
"You grabbed him like you were gonna hit him, but stopped when I asked you to. Then you were shaking like a leaf, glaring down at that thing on your arm, like that was to blame."
She was little too observant. "It's a long story," he stated simply.
"We've got time. Unless you'd rather not talk about it."
Dean shrugged. "Have you ever heard of the Mark of Cain?" he asked.
"Like from the bible?" Elena wasn't particularly religious, but she knew enough. "Cain and Abel?"
"Yeah. Well this is that Mark. And it makes me...not myself."
Elena's brows scrunched together. "Are you saying you have the actual Mark of Cain?" she asked incredulously.
"Unfortunately." Their food arrived then, but for once, Dean had no appetite. "It's made me do terrible things. And it's only getting worse. I don't know what to do about it." Dean wasn't sure why he was opening to this girl. She was basically a complete stranger. And probably not even human. But there was something about her that made Dean feel comfortable enough to tell her anything.
And, judging by the way she hardly even batted an eye when he said he had the literal Mark of Cain on his arm, he was willing to bet she'd seen a few supernatural things herself.
"We all have demons, Dean," Elena said, placing her hand on his. She didn't know why she did it. Sure, they'd slept together, but that had been a drunken one night stand. Here she was now, letting him pour his heart out to her. And she felt like she could do the same with him. But how would he react to knowing she was vampire? Clearly, he wasn't knew to the supernatural―he had the Mark of Cain, for crying out loud―but that didn't mean he'd be accepting. "I'm responsible for so many peoples' deaths that I've lost count," she added, trying to be comforting.
Dean's mouth quirked up on one side, but he tried to hide it by rubbing his hand over his mouth and the hard stubble on his face. "Aren't we all?" he said, sounding amused. Though he and his brother had stopped the apocalypse that they'd inevitably started, he still felt guilty for the lives he couldn't save. But he was learning to deal. That wasn't even what he found amusing, though. Elena's use of the word 'demon' when she probably had no idea that they were literally walking the earth with them.
"Is something funny?" Elena asked, her face serious, but a playful glint in her eyes.
"No, no," Dean said, taking a bite of his eggs. "These eggs are...eggs-ellent," he deadpanned.
For a moment, it was silent, then Elena burst out laughing, Dean following suit. "My eggs are eggs-emplory," she said with a grin.
"Mine are eggs-travagant!" he exclaimed, loud enough for the girls at the bar to hear.
Elena snorted. "My eggs are eggs-traordinary!"
People were beginning to stare now; the old man had even put down his newspaper, though he was the only other person besides Elena and Dean who seemed amused.
Dean slammed his fist down on the table. "My eggs are eggs-ceptional!"
Elena stood and yelled to the whole diner, "My eggs are eggs-ellent!"
"Okay," the waitress said, coming over to their table. "Y'all are disturbing the other customers. I'm gonna have to ask you to be quiet."
Dean stood. "That's fine," he told the waitress calmly. "Because my eggs were eggs-tremely gross!"
Elena burst out laughing; so did the old man. Grabbing Dean's hand, she pulled him from the diner as the waitress glared at them both. Once they were outside by the Impala, Elena wiped the tears from her eyes, but couldn't wipe the grin from her face.
And then Dean's lips were on hers, his hands on either side of her as they leaned against the car. To be honest, Dean didn't have a clue why he was letting himself like this girl so much. They'd barely known each other a whole day, but she was unlike anyone he'd ever met.
Elena's hands gripped Dean's flannel, pulling him closer. The entire time she'd been Dean, she hadn't though of Damon once. The reason she'd woken up crying wasn't even because of her ex-boyfriend, but because she hadn't felt like herself. She'd felt like she was losing it, losing who she really was. But somehow, this stranger that she was kissing had managed to help her find herself again.
But there was a secret she knew she had to tell him.
Gently pushing Dean away, holding him just a few inches from her, she said, "There's something you should know about me."
Dean had known this was coming, and he tried to brace himself for whatever it was Elena was going to tell him. "Okay," he said gruffly, still a bit out of breath from the kiss.
"I'm..." Elena closed her eyes and turn her face away, taking a deep breath. "I'm a vampire." When Dean burst out laughing, Elena was confused. "What's funny?" she asked him.
"It's just...The universe must be out to get me, sending a vampire to seduce me when I hate vampires." Elena flinched at the word hate, but Dean sighed. "But joke's on the universe, because I like you. A lot." And then his lips were on hers again and the Mark, Damon, all of it was momentarily forgotten.